


To Catch Up With The Sun

by OneLuckyUnicorn



Category: Elena of Avalor (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Catholic Guilt, Drama, Family, Gen, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roman Catholicism, Suicidal Thoughts, backdoor reboot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneLuckyUnicorn/pseuds/OneLuckyUnicorn
Summary: Esteban’s thought process after Elena’s return. Just because the royal family’s back together again doesn’t mean that all is well. Anxiety, tentative relationship rebuilding, and subdued hope follows in the wake of their reunion. Basically sets up my AU verse.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	1. The Sun Is The Same In A Relative Way

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s notes:** Hey all! Got a short story here to tide people over as I work on longer stuff. Also, I’m experimenting with a different narration style for TCUWTS then the third-person omniscient I typically use.
> 
> A few important things to note for potential readers before ya’ll dive in: 1) this story is Esteban-centric, and 2) it’s going to be more mature in tone then the show itself is and will deal with some heavy subject matter. So if you’re looking for something that feels like it could be an actual episode of _Elena Of Avalor_ , then this is not the fic for you. Just a head’s up.
> 
> I should also note that this is an alternate version of EoA. This idea’s been brewing in my head well before the third season’s debut. Therefore, if something sticks out to anyone as not being in-line with canon, then more than likely there’s your reason why. If you’re interested as to why I chose to make the changes that I did, as well as story extras, see my notes over at my blog.

It felt like finally waking up from a nightmare that had gone on for far too long.

After a certain point, the throng of elated people filling the palace courtyard singing Elena’s praises had simply become too overwhelming for you, so you’d been forced to retreat to the verdant calm of the Royal Gardens. It had long been a favored sanctuary for you.

There, you released a breath as you sank onto a bench beneath an orange tree that had been around longer than you had, grateful for the freedom to move around without bumping into somebody else. Your relatives were more than welcome to continue celebrating. They deserved it.

At times, you wanted to curse yourself for being such an introvert. When you were small, you tended to be shy in the presence of unfamiliar faces, and the years of near-isolation had only exacerbated the problem. As much as you wished to be as good at social interaction outside of formal occasions the way Elena was, that was another area she outdid you in.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy that Shuriki had just been vanquished and your surviving relatives were back. Oh no, far from it! But layered on top of your delight was a surreal sensation, like being outside one’s own body and observing events transpire around you.

Shuriki truly was gone. That fact was really sinking in. Previously, you had resigned yourself to never being rid of her. Being a sorceress, she would just outlive you. Death had been looking like your most likely opportunity to finally be free of her. But no, this foreign royal family had basically ignited a full-on rebellion that had ended with Shuriki plunging off the terrace and down into the Mitotiqui River. it was something you never would’ve predicted.

Exhaustion was starting to settle over you like a blanket, more than likely a result of all the excitement of the day, including getting to run around with Shuriki while she’d been madly pursuing that one orange-furred jaquin (you wondered if said jaquin was upset about having a spear thrown at her. You _really_ didn’t want to have something with teeth and claws like that mad at you). Still, it was a good kind of tired, a well-deserved rest since slumber didn’t often come easily to you these days. You stretched out on the bench in the cool shade and shut your eyes.

“Don Esteban! There you are!”

The unexpected intrusion caused your eyes to snap wide open and a jolt of fear to race through your body in the same instance.

Sitting up and looking around, you started relaxing when you realized it was just Higgins lolloping towards your bench, but not for long. “Yes, Higgins?” You made no attempt to hide your aggravation, both towards him and towards the situation. At least none of the more annoying or embarrassing symptoms of your condition had decided to accompany your little _fit_ this time. This problem had plagued you for some years now – if you were startled somehow or sleeping and someone woke you up, or you heard either a loud or strange noise, you had a tendency to panic. It was rather embarrassing.

“The rest of the royal family was wondering where you’d gotten off to!” The portly servant explained as he halted before you, trying to catch his breath.

Curious as to how long you’d been there in the garden, you glanced skyward to notice that the sun was starting to set, scarlet and violet hues replacing the azure blue which had previously been the sky. Sunsets were something you loved – they reminded you of soft evenings spent stargazing with mother and father -- but you supposed there would be no time to stop and appreciate this one. “Where are they?”

“In the Dining Hall.”

With a sigh you got up, and after stretching – maybe falling asleep on a wooden bench hadn’t been the best thing for your back -- made your way there.

Standing just outside the Dining Hall, you observed your family seated at the table there. They looked like they were still having a good time, laughing and talking with two servants who were standing around the table attending to them. One of them, Ana, a slim young Avaloran woman with dark brown hair and who was a relatively recent addition to the household staff, was busy filling their drinking cups. Elena, ever the social butterfly, already appeared to be ingratiating herself with the help.

The other was your manservant, Sancho. He was a thin older man (but still younger than your Grandfather was), and so had an almost paternal air about him, something even you had picked up on. However, his black hair had not yet grayed entirely, and he was clean-shaven. Lastly, he was a mute. Sancho had been brought into your service by none other than Shuriki. At first you could do nothing but seethe in silence. What on earth were you supposed to do with a servant who couldn’t even talk? But in the end, the joke was on her as you came to see the benefits of having of Sancho as a personal servant. He was always appropriately respectful, hardworking, and unlike _certain_ other palace staff that you could name, had always been a sharp one. People would often speak freely in his presence, dismissing him due to his dumbness.

As overjoyed as you were to see all of them again, as you beheld the scene, a sense of discomfit and envy rose up in you. It was just a reminder that _you_ had changed, while everyone else in your family had been literally frozen in time, and so basically remained the same as before.

Always the odd one out, even now.

Made uncomfortable by the sudden revelation that even now you were plagued by the same insecurities you’d suffered from when you were small, you tried pushing the feelings away before...

“Ah, Esteban! Sorry we weren’t able to properly catch up with you earlier!” Your gaze traveled over to your Grandfather, who was the one to have just spoken. He was looking straight at you, beaming brightly. “Come over here and join us!”

“Hey, where’d you go earlier?” Elena demanded before you could answer him. “One minute you were right beside me, then I turn around and you were gone.”

You didn’t know if that line of questioning was innocent or not, but you chose to interpret it that way, beating down your annoyance and simply replying, “Forgive me. The day’s exertions left me a little tired, so I retired to the garden for a quick nap.”

Prior to your nap, Elena had told you point blank that she didn’t know whose side you were on. She seemed to have believed what you told her about why you became Lord Chancellor under Shuriki, or so you thought. But uncertainty had definitely been present in her tone. And you knew that your grandparents were going to have questions too.

Oh, Lita and Papito. Relief didn’t even begin to describe how you felt when you finally saw your grandparents again. They looked exactly the same as they did right before being magicked by Alcazar into the painting which had then gone onto hang in the throne room. That’d had you deeply worried, wondering how the passage of time might affect the two of them. They were already old before.

Originally, you’d had no awareness of what Alcazar had done, instead fearing the worst. You’d only learned about the portrait from one of the servants. You were immensely grateful to Alcazar -- he’d also apparently enchanted it so that it could not be moved and was impervious to Shuriki’s spells. That was why she’d ultimately thrown a tapestry over it, hiding it in plain sight. You had always felt strange walking past that spot.

What had it been like, being stuck inside a painting? Or trapped inside Princess Sofia’s amulet? Was it like being asleep? Or had all of them been conscious of everything going on around them the whole time? Had your grandparents and cousin watched you while you’d stared at them, helplessly observing everything? You weren’t sure you wanted to ask either, so you hoped and prayed it was the former. Sometimes you had to wonder if they fared better then you, Raul, Lucia, and all of Avalor put together had.

But everyone was here now – your surviving loved ones. Everything was going to be alright now.

It was going to be alright, wasn’t it?

The last time you’d seen your family in the flesh, you hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms with most of them. Isabel was the only one you really had never gotten into it with, and that was because she was too young to even understand what was actually going on. You still clearly remembered a much younger you snarling at Grandfather how much you _hated him_ because you knew that he and everybody else preferred Elena to you. The memory was stuck in your mind like a shard of broken glass in your hand -- sharp and clear, and about as painful as being cut by one too.

Did the old man still think about that night too?

By then Grandmother had climbed to her feet and was approaching you. She had to crane her neck just to be able to peer into your face (she always had to do that though, ever since you hit your teenaged years – she wasn’t a very tall woman), marveling at _how much you’ve changed_ , her fingers tracing the gray on your temples which hadn’t been there when she’d last seen you.

Before, when you were alone and afforded a chance to daydream, you’d always wondered and fantasized about what you would do if ever given the opportunity to see her again. You were going to wrap your arms around her and never let go, tell her how much you’d missed her.

But that didn’t happen. Instead you were frozen in place, only capable of staring at her as if she was a spirit returned to haunt you. _‘For the love of everything pure and holy, Esteban, move, speak,_ do something.’

Grandmother then took a step back, looking you up and down. “Have you been eating enough? You look so thin!”

That snapped you out of it. Feeling somewhat put out, you momentarily held out your arms slightly, looking yourself over. “I eat well enough, _abuela_!”

“You’re _old_.” That was Isabel. You can see it in her eyes as she took in your appearance. Your little cousin was sitting there regarding you like you were a complete stranger.

“Isabel.” Grandfather shot her a stern look.

“It’s fine.” You quickly reassure him, not wishing to see any sort of strife among them after just having finally gotten everybody back. Personally though, you didn’t believe you looked _that_ old (in fact, most people were stunned when they learned your actual age), but the last time she had seen you you were seventeen years old. Now you were a mature man while she was still a little girl. That was _really_ unnerving.

Grandmother’s hazel eyes studied you curiously. “How old are you now?”

You hesitated before replying. “Fifty-seven.”

Looks of shock passed between your grandparents.

“And… what year is this?” Grandmother pressed. She was struggling to retain her composure, but you could tell the dam was threatening to burst, as it were.

Your mouth tightened, but you answered anyways. “1658.”

Her only response was a sharp intake of breath. Grandfather made the sign of the cross. Confusion and surprise flashed across Isabel’s face, but upon hearing Grandmother gasp, she turned to both her and Grandfather with a wide-eyed stare. Elena was the only one who appeared relatively calm, merely sitting there in silence. Shuriki had already told her how old you were before going for her dip, so she’d probably done the math in her head at some point. You felt it best to allow them to process everything they just learned. And so, none of you said anymore.

Good old Sancho approached to offer you something to drink from his tray right then. After ensuring that it was indeed cognac (the servants knew what you liked), you accepted one of the silver goblets. As you lifted it to your lips, you noticed the look of concern in his eyes as his gaze traveled over from your family to you. You did nothing but offered a slight raise of your eyebrows and a small tightlipped smile before swallowing your mouthful of cognac. There wasn’t really much of anything either of you could do for them at the moment other than allow things to play out.

It was right around then that you became aware that Grandmother was looking around as though searching for someone. Likewise noticing her questing gaze, Grandfather shot her a glance that she caught.

“I’m looking for Marta.” She explained.

Understanding dawned on Grandfather’s face, but not comprehending who they were speaking of, you just continued regarding them both with bemusement. “Marta?...”

“Yes, Marta.” Grandmother sent you an incredulous look. ”You know Marta -- she helped tend to Isabel when she came down with pneumonia.”

“Oh, her! Well, she died some years back. She was in her eighties.” You stated matter-of-factly. You regret the words as soon they left your mouth. Elena and Grandmother’s mouths fell open, while Isabel’s eyes became huge as plates.

“But… I just saw her yesterday!”

“M-M-Marta is… gone?”

Biting your lip, you looked away from them and down at your feet instead. This was going just splendidly. Now you had upset everyone, just like before with your perpetual need to quarrel with and lash out at everybody else. You weren’t sure what your next move should be. You hadn’t really dealt with or been around very many young children a great deal, not since you were younger anyways. And sure, you’d seen your fair share of sad people – it was only natural when you had a kingdom in the grip of a tyrant -- but any comforting had to take place away from Shuriki’s eyes. Tears only irritated her.

Still, given that everyone else appeared to be struggling with the news of Marta’s passing as well, someone needed to step in for Isabel. Lord, you hoped you could do this and that it wouldn’t come across as insincere... Setting your goblet aside on Sancho’s tray, you knelt in front of Isabel, looking directly into her eyes as you did. Sure enough, tears were gathering there. “I apologize, Isa. I forgot how close you were to her.”

Isabel didn’t say anything, only wrapping her arms around your neck and burying her face into your shoulder instead. You rubbed her back. Your sympathy for the poor girl had won out over your embarrassment at the stir you’d inadvertently created.

“I didn’t think about that… how some people wouldn’t be here anymore...”

You glanced away from Isabel and over at Elena, who’d just said that, her eyes haunted. You, on the other hand, honestly felt relief at seeing her display a more natural reaction. Aside from when she’d previously confronted Shuriki in the throne room, Elena appeared to have just shrugged off the events of the past forty-one years like nothing had happened. Hers' had always been an upbeat personality, but now much of her behavior came across like someone putting on a big show of appearing happy and perky. You weren’t sure if anyone else had picked up on it, or if everybody was so swept up in all the excitement that they hadn’t even noticed. But you found it rather jarring, to say the least. You wanted to tell Elena that it was alright to be upset at having basically been imprisoned. She didn’t have to wear this mask constantly.

Your gaze then traveled over to your grandparents, who were both watching Isabel before giving you a significant look. Catching the hint, you addressed your younger cousin. “You must be hungry, Isa. How about some rice pudding?”

Lifting her head, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Not really... I ate earlier.”

“Thirsty then?”

“Esteban, I’m not a baby anymore.” In spite of the fact that she’d followed that statement up with a sniffle, much to your relief a small smile had formed on her face.

You were trying to think fast. No use sending her off to her bedchamber, since she technically no longer had one. And a tour was out of the question. For one thing, what was there for her to even look at? That hideous silver and purple color scheme Shuriki had chosen to decorate everything in? And the palace had been – no, _was_ \-- Isabel’s home. Who toured their own home?

Only one route left to take then, and it was one that might backfire – the honest one. “Listen, we need to talk about some serious matters.” You indicated your grandparents and Elena. “do you think you could give us some time alone? ”

Hesitating initially, Isabel finally gave a reluctant nod. “I guess so...”

Realizing Ana was still waiting in the room in case her services were required, you got the woman’s attention and called her over. “Ana, would you please take Isabel somewhere a little more appropriate for her?”

Ana, who wore an expression that was a combination of pity and unease as she stared at you and your family, snapped to attention when her name was called. “Yes, Don Esteban.” She dipped her head to you deferentially before approaching Isabel and extending an inviting hand to her. “Come, Your Highness. Let’s go see what kind of fun we can dig up around here!”

 __Isabel was led away, but not before looking back over her shoulder at you and everyone else. Seeing Grandmother nod at her, she finally turned around and walked on out with Ana.

 _‘Good.’_ You think. She didn’t need to be present to hear how her parents had died. How your aunt and uncle had been brutally cut down because of you.

Sancho refilled your goblet once more before quietly slipping away. More than likely the fellow sensed that all of you wanted privacy.

Retrieving your goblet from where it had been left, you then took a seat beside Grandfather as Grandmother gave you her full focus. “Now, tell us what happened that day.”

She didn’t have to elaborate on what she meant. You knew full-well what she was referring to. You looked between your relatives, who in turn were peering at you inquiringly. Just how much did they actually remember? For you, that whole day was like one long bad dream, one you wanted to forget altogether.

You’d given Shuriki the keys to the kingdom basically. So, how had you rationalized the plot in your idiotic seventeen-year old mind again? You had naively assumed Shuriki was going to stick to her word like she’d promised to – she would just throw some spells around, magically persuading your aunt and uncle to step down. You would then be crowned king while Shuriki and Victor received lofty positions in the new government. When she had pressed you about Aunt Lucia and Raul’s schedules before, you told her what she wanted to know and thought nothing more of it. If you had only just been wiser back then…

You didn’t know _what_ on earth had been going on inside of Victor’s head back then, other than his ravenous desire to get one-up on the rest of your family. Once upon a time you had believed him when he said everybody in the palace looked down on him and falsely accused him of stealing things because he was your close friend. You felt that your family had been unfairly giving him a hard time for years.

But looking back on everything now as a grown man, the scheme you and Victor had concocted together hadn’t just been a plan that didn’t make much in the way of logical sense, but you’d been such a _fool_ to invite a complete stranger in to help rule your family’s kingdom. Uncle Raul and Aunt Lucia wouldn’t have given up the throne without a fight, but you had never believed Shuriki would’ve actually stoop to _murder_. Otherwise you never would’ve agreed to the damn deal in the first place. Shuriki had lied straight to your face. You may’ve been angry with your family and Raul especially, but that didn’t mean you seriously wanted any of them dead.

But of course, you couldn’t tell _them_ any of that. You weren’t stupid -- the penalty for high treason was death. It didn’t matter if you were blue-blooded or commoner, except that since you were of noble birth, you most likely would be beheaded and not hung. And sometimes it took executioners a few tries to decapitate the unlucky soul.

Resisting a sudden urge to massage your neck, you launched into your tale. “I was in the chapel the day she showed up.” That much was true.

Grandfather nodded. “Now that I think about it, I do remember you mentioning that the night before.”

Yes, you’d deliberately made a point of telling your grandparents that you and Victor wanted to spend some time in the palace chapel in the morning praying and thinking about things. This seemed to please Grandfather. In light of all the recent familial hostility and tension, he probably wanted to believe that you were penitent for your behavior.

But Grandmother had seemed a little more… dubious? Or unsure, perhaps? But was that because of you, or Victor? She had never liked Victor, she’d made that abundantly clear before.

Father Martinez, a heavyset older man with thinning pale gray hair and a fleshy nose, had listened patiently when you and Victor approached him in the hall, explaining that the two of you wished to attend Mass earlier in the day then everybody else and by yourselves.

_“Of course, my sons.” The priest nodded at the duo. “The doors of God’s house are always open. I look forward to seeing you both.”_

_“Thank you, Father.” Victor ducked his head, the very picture of contriteness and piety._

In actuality, he had been far less religious then the Castillo-Flores clan was, only attending church when his father Tomás Delgado, the chief royal treasurer, made him go. Faith held no fascination for Victor. It was another black mark against him in the Castillo-Flores’ eyes.

Thus, you and Victor had served as one another’s alibis. Once the hour was up, you both would exit the chapel, seemingly none the wiser to what had happened elsewhere in the palace, and go on to embrace the dawn of a new era.

New era indeed.

 _Inside the chapel, Esteban and Victor sat by one another on a pew in the middle of the high-ceilinged, elegant room._ _Esteban couldn’t help but fidget restlessly. “You think it’s over?” He whispered to Victor._

_Victor merely shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead._

_The orotund voice of Father Martinez rang throughout the chapel as he recited the words of the Confiteor. He bowed low before the foot of the alter, his back to the two young men. “Confiteor_ _Deo_ _omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper Virgini, beato Michaeli Archangelo, beato Ioanni Baptistae, sanctis Apostolis Petro et Paulo, et omnibus Sanctis, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”_

_As a young boy, he’d loved the pomp and ceremony surrounding church. It made him feel a part of something that not only was centuries old, but much bigger than himself. But now it was all just background noise to Esteban. His emotions were a strange, roiling brew of dread, anticipation, uncertainty, other things he couldn’t even put a name to... He listened closely, trying to see if he could hear anything outside, studied the faces of Martinez and the servers to see if they noticed anything – a flash of fear there, or confusion. Nothing. Nothing but solemnity and reverence. Esteban couldn’t take it any longer. “I’ll go see how things are going!” He made to rise, but Victor set a hand on his shoulder and roughly made him sit back down on the pew._

_“You remember what she said.” There was a warning in his eyes. “She’d come get us once everything was done.”_

_It was then that the chapel doors blew open with a loud crash, announcing Shuriki’s arrival. There she stood in the doorway, scepter in hand as she haughtily surveyed the area…_

There was nothing like realizing the aunt who had read you bedtime stories when you were five was slaughtered as you sat there listening to the Holy Gospel. To this day the very thought made the bile rise in the back of your throat. It was really a wonder that the entire chapel hadn’t just burst into flames with you and Victor in it right then and there.

With as much time to think about all this as you’d had, one evening a grim thought had entered your mind – had Victor actually been _aware_ of what Shuriki intended to really do to Raul and Lucia the whole time?

Well, whatever he had known, he was no longer around for you to question on the matter. You’d always wondered whatever had become of Victor after he had been exiled from Avalor by Shuriki. The only other person in the world now aware of the dark secret you kept...

Obviously, Elena had been present during the attack. Exactly _why_ she had chosen to confront Shuriki with no weapon to defend herself with, guards, or any other kind of protection or aid you couldn’t really understand. You weren’t sure if those factors would’ve necessarily changed anything that day, but still. There was bravery, and then there was foolishness and youthful bravado.

“I wanted to make certain no harm befell your portrait. Shuriki also told me if I didn’t go along with her, she would not hesitate to kill me as well. Knowing what she did to _tío_ and _tía_ , I didn’t want to try her.” All of that was also true. You furthered explained how Avalor’s economy would’ve been decimated if you hadn’t stepped in to handle those matters. Shuriki was far more interested in enforcing her draconian laws, erecting monuments to her vanity, and obsessing over her appearance.

“Didn’t the jaquins try mounting an attack against her?” Elena demanded.

“They did.”

“And?”

“As you said, they tried.” You shrugged. “It was unsuccessful.” Yes, you’d actually been there for the poor jaquins’ failed assault. You swore you were going to have the most depressing memoirs ever. You remembered how originally you were headed to the library for some reason, but, lured by the sounds of fearsome shouts and roars from outside and wondering what on earth could be happening, went to the courtyard instead to see furry forms tumbling from the sky. Brilliantly colored fur and feathers could be seen drifting gently to the ground like a fall of rainbow snow. Shuriki was standing there armed with her scepter, jade sparks of her maleficium still dancing along its crystalline length. The sight of both it and the dead and dying jaquins all around you caused your heart to seize up in your chest and your breathing to come out in short, harsh gasps. She didn’t care, of course, only ordering you to have the corpses and gore cleaned up like she was talking about sweeping up a broken plate in the kitchens.

“Afterwards, she placed a bounty on the head of every jaquin in Avalor and tried to drive the whole species into extinction. In fact, I hadn’t seen any again until today.” Some people felt like the jaquins hadn’t put up enough of a resistance, but you couldn’t say you blamed the jaquins for vanishing to wherever they’d gone off to. They were formidable fighters, but there was only so much they could really do against magic, not possessing it themselves. “Ask them more about it the next time they show up.”

After that, nobody had anything to say until Grandfather was the one to break the silence once more. “So, have there been any _good_ changes around here? Do you have a wife now? You’re certainly old enough to have already started a family of your own.” He leaned forward across the table hopefully, expectantly. He had that glint in his eye too, the same one that was there back when he and the rest of your relatives had been pushing you into becoming more proactive about courting and marrying some young noblewomen.

The very idea! You startle yourself (and everybody else, you’re sure) when an undignified snort escaped you. “Good Lord! I can’t imagine what Shuriki would’ve done if I’d tried getting married, either to me or the poor woman!” And what a blessing it was that Shuriki had never attempted to wed _you_ (ugh), being the last lone Castillo-Flores standing and all! If she had been smarter, then she would’ve done so and then had you murdered so she could’ve had the throne all to herself.

Your grandparents tried to conceal it, but disappointment momentarily flickered in their eyes.

“Well, she’s gone now, so you don’t have to wait anymore.” Grandmother gave you a smile which was intended to be encouraging.

You _really_ didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Thank you, Lita, Papito.” You said, using your old pet names for them while patting the backs of their hands. “But enough about me. We should _really_ focus on putting the kingdom back on track! Most importantly, we need to apprehend Shuriki’s supporters first.”

Both your grandparents nodded resolutely. “He’s right.” Concern now filled your Grandmother’s eyes, along with something else -- anger. “These people are still a danger.”

Secretly pleased that all talk of the M-word had been forgotten, you went on. “No doubt a number of them have already learned of what’s happened here, but Don Benevente and I can identify any stragglers to the guards.”

“Don Benevente-Ruiz is still alive?” Grandfather asked.

“He is, but his health isn’t the best these days, so he usually remains at his estate. Rudolph mostly sees to his affairs now. He’s also our Minister of Finance.”

Elena stared at you with disbelieving eyes. “Rudolph? Lit-a-firecracker-in-history-class-on-a-dare _Rudy?_ Wow. Didn’t see that coming.”

Grandmother shared another glance with Grandfather before nodding her approval. “He was always a fine young man -- ” Her pleased expression suddenly shifted into a scowl “-- _Except_ for this firecracker incident which I’m only now just hearing about for some reason. That was a really foolish thing to do!”

“Well…” You cleared your throat, “In Rudolph’s defense, Victor dared him to do it.”

Grandmother rolled her eyes. “Of course he did.”

The gentleman in question, Don Rudolph Benevente-Ruiz, son of the senior Don Benevente-Ruiz, was someone you’d known since childhood. Over the years he had become one of your strongest allies, and loathed Shuriki almost as much as you did.

“Okay, well, sounds like you can handle that, Esteban.” Elena said. “And then once things are safe again, we all should sit down together so we can figure out where to go from here.”

“I will send for Rudolph then.” Arising from the table, you took your leave of the Dining Hall. You strode down the hall, trailed by your terrible secret and a stream of unending thoughts. Even with no more Shuriki, that didn’t mean your problems were over with. Not by any means.

Even if your bringing up the issue of Shuriki’s backers had originally been done with the intent of dodging the topic of your bachelorhood, it was another truth. Even you didn’t know exactly how many people within the government were sincerely loyal to Shuriki – she’d appointed those she liked or who were willing to throw in their lot with her to positions of authority – but you didn’t want to take any chances.

The clergy meanwhile had either been effectively beaten into submission or driven out of Avalor years ago – the stronger and more principled ones had a clear stance on maleficium, and Shuriki would not tolerate any potential threats to her authority. Father Martinez had been one of the latter. You still felt ashamed about lying to him the way you had. You wished he were there so that you and he could talk. He’d been well-respected around the palace and in Avalor itself. You yourself had certainly trusted and liked the man. You felt sure he would’ve had some words of wisdom for you. Would’ve even kept your secret.

But thanks to you he _wasn’t_ there, so it was all on to you to figure out how to solve your own problems. Would it be possible, you wondered, to take some time off in order to deal with everything? You barely remembered the last time you’d had a vacation. You would need to bide your time, of course – aside from the fact that leaving Avalor wouldn’t be the smartest move right now, you had no desire to just abandon your family so soon – but maybe it was something you needed look into doing at some point in the near-future.

In the meantime, you would continue to wear the mask of a man who was the very model of tact, consideration, and restraint at the edge of the precipice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A translation of Father Martinez’s Confiteor: 
> 
> “I confess to almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the saints that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore, I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and all the saints, to pray for me to the Lord our God. Amen.”
> 
> Maleficium is a term I use here to refer to the evil magic used by Shuriki and other not-so-nice magic-users.¬
> 
> Don Rudolph Benevente-Ruiz is one of the more important original fan characters I made for my reboot here. We’ll be meeting him in the flesh in future installments (and if you’re curious, yes, there is an actual reason for his not having a Spanish first name).


	2. Home Again

Going to bed later that night, you hoped to be able to fall asleep. But no matter how hard you tried to you couldn’t, because all the thoughts and memories were coming at you like cannonballs -- hard and fast and relentlessly.

Restlessly you tossed and turned under your silk bedsheets, until, finally growing frustrated, you tossed them aside. Sitting up, you moved to the edge of the bed and sat there, feet touching the elaborately decorated rug which adorned the ornately-patterned floor tiles. Frustrated, you raked a hand through your luxurious hair. If you couldn’t sleep, why not do something else to preoccupy your time?

You were no stranger to sleepless nights, and over the years had attempted to develop assorted little tricks for dealing with them. Sometimes they were effective, sometimes they did nothing. In the beginning, liberal amounts of alcohol had worked. Then it hadn’t. Didn’t stop you from drinking though.

Briefly you considered heading out for a walk around the palace grounds, but your going out in the middle of the night might have been looked at as odd or worse. Why give Elena or anybody else cause for anymore possible suspicion towards you?

Plus, Shuriki still hadn’t been found. Several squads of Avaloran soldiers had searched high and low for her. No body had been recovered yet however, and since it was undetermined whether she was alive or dead, it was decided that extra security within and around the kingdom was needed. No chances were to be taken. You liked to hope she’d drowned, but with no corpse to prove it, you were reluctant to draw that conclusion. At this point you wouldn’t put anything past a magic-user.

Well, what was there to do around here then? Ruminating on the matter a few minutes more, you finally made up your mind and got on out of bed. Pulling your dressing gown down from off the room divider where it had been hanging, you pull the deep red robe-like garment over your white linen nightshirt. Going over to your bureau, you then opened the third drawer, and reaching down inside, pulled a key out. In no time at all you’ve left your bedchamber and was making your way through the silent darkened halls, a taper candle holder in hand to provide light. You hold it out in front of you, the flame keeping the shadows at bay.

Prior to the Dark Times, you’d taken for granted just how nice it was to be able to move about freely in your own home without needing to constantly look over your shoulder. You could barely even leave the palace out of fear of what Shuriki might do if she thought you were making a break for it. She would have no qualms about taking out her fury on innocent people -- or your family’s portrait. It was supposed to be magic-proof, and you were certainly no magician, but you did always wonder if her persistance would win out and she’d end up discovering some way around Alcazar’s defenses.

At any rate, over time Shuriki had grown laxer about letting you go places unattended, no doubt believing she’d broken you.

Perhaps she’d succeeded.

Passing by one of the palace guards, a man nearly as tall as you were but twice as wide, you nodded in acknowledgement to him.

Not surprised in the least to see you up and about, he nodded back before snapping off a respectful salute. “Don Esteban.” Guards like him had been posted all around the palace.

You continued on your way until reaching the study. Unlocking the door, you entered and quietly shut it behind you. The key was returned to your pocket once more. The study was smaller than many of the other rooms in the palace, but still relatively spacious. Inside, a floor-to-ceiling bookcase spanned all but one of the three walls, and numerous volumes lined its shelves. To your left, a large bay window overlooked the expansive garden below. If the moon had been full that night, you would’ve opened the curtains for some extra light. Alas, there was no escaping iris-purple and silver even in here. You couldn’t _wait_ for the redecorating to begin.

You headed for the elegantly-carved desk and matching chair, both of which were positioned in front of the window. You proceeded to light the oil lamp on the desk, all of the candles arrayed in the gilded candelabra that rested there as well, and then finally the ones in the wall sconces until you finally had enough light to work by. Then setting the candle aside, you took a seat at the desk and pulled open one of the drawers. From inside you retrieved a collection of papers which had been rolled up and tied together with a red string. After shutting the drawer and going about untying the roll, you flattened the sheets out. Your eyes pored over the contents of the topmost document. It concerned a dispute over fifty acres of land between a Misters Salazar and Quesada.

Oh, this was _perfect_.

Now, certainly you believed in responsibility and hard work, but there were duties too dry and dull even for your sensibilities. And nothing said “dry and dull” like tending to land disputes. Typically, jobs such as this were left to underlings, but you felt positive they wouldn’t mind you lending a hand. Besides, this was a familiar activity, one which you yourself had participated in before a few times, seeing as how the “mighty queen” wouldn’t dare sully her talons with mundane paperwork.

You began reading over the deed. After having reached the end, you moved onto a thick, dusty book containing all of the records concerning the disputed property. While you read, your concentration eventually started to falter. It became more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. Finally, mercifully, you were lapsing into peaceful slumber…

Until the sounds of someone or something shuffling around right behind you caused you to awake with a start and nearly hit the ceiling.

“Esteban, it’s alright! It’s just me!”

You were standing now, bent over the desk with one trembling hand palm down on the smooth worn cherrywood and the other over your heart. Your throat felt tight and constricted, so you were drinking in air for all you were worth. You recognized the voice at the same time you struggled to get your heartrate back under control. Letting an old man scare you!

A warm hand came to gently land on your shoulder. After a moment or two, you finally started feeling normal again. Or about as normal as someone like you would ever be, at any rate. Taking in a deep breath, you faced Grandfather, holding his gaze as you carefully clasped still-shaky hands behind your back. You wanted to appear as totally collected and professional as a man possibly could right after having had a bout of hysteria while wearing a nightgown. “Did I wake you, _abeulo_?”

“No, no.” He shook his gray head. “I just couldn’t sleep was all. Too much on my mind.”

Relieved he seemed to think nothing of your overreaction, you nod. “Sometimes I can’t sleep either, so I get up and busy myself around here.”

Realizing the chair had been knocked over, you righted it again. You were fortunate to not have knocked over any of the candles/or the oil lamp too. Aside from the sound of the chair’s legs as they scraped against the floor, the study was silent. It then occurred to you that Grandfather possibly wanted to say something, but was trying to either form or find the right words. You weren’t sure how to proceed yourself. It was frustrating -- but you were aggravated with yourself, not him. When you were small, before entering what you now referred to as your “petulant phase”, you shared a strong bond with your grandparents, Grandfather especially.

“Do you still play guitar?” Grandfather suddenly asked.

You looked at him as though seeing him for the very first time. “I do.” Admittedly the idea had never crossed your mind before as a way of combating your sleeplessness. It made sense that he’d be the one to suggest it though -- he was the one who’d taught you guitar in the first place.

“What do you say we play for a bit then?”

Now a smile had made its way onto your face. “My guitar’s in my bedchamber. I’ll go and get it.”

Taking up your candle, you quickly made your way back and retrieved your instrument from its case, which was tucked away safely under your bed. When you returned, the two of you sat down together on the loveseat, respective guitars cradled in your arms. You were strangely giddy to be doing this. You hadn’t gotten the opportunity to be able to play too often after the onset of the Dark Times. Very recently however you did get to play for the Enchancian royal family, having only worked up the nerve to do so because you knew it would be a fun way to wind up Shuriki, who was an avowed music hater (something you’d always found bizarre). After all, how many times could you have gotten away with taunting her before?

Testing the guitar strings, you realized the sound was slightly off. Instinctually you extended a hand to the tuners, twisting and turning them as you saw fit. Again, you plucked the strings. That time, the tone was perfect -- a broad, powerful range of emotion captured within a quiet and tender undertone. You looked over at Grandfather, and he gifts you a smile. Music to his ears.

You and he start trading suggestions on what to play before settling on the very first song you two played together back when you were still learning how. For that reason, it was a melody that held a special place within your heart.

This was how things should’ve been. Music in the palace. You doing something that you loved with a person you loved. For once, not being dogged by awful thoughts that just kept spiraling and spiraling no matter how hard you tried to banish them.

When the song came to an end, Grandfather congratulated you. “Not bad!”

That was true. You grinned back. “Considering that I’ve only played a handful of times in the past forty-one years, not bad indeed.” You then went on to tell him all about the impromptu performance you’d dared to put on just the other day.

By the time you reached the story’s end he was chuckling. “I certainly would’ve paid good money to have seen her face right about then!”

The exchange served to alleviate the self-conscious silence which had hung in the air between you two previously. Now it had become more of a contemplative, relaxed quiet.

“Would it be alright if I asked you something?” Grandfather asked a moment later. The seriousness, as well as the hesitation in his voice, a stark contrast to how he’d sounded only a moment before, stoked your curiosity. “About Victor?”

“You may.” Nodding your permission, you set aside your guitar.

“Did something happen to him? We noticed that he wasn’t here.”

“I couldn’t tell you. Four years after she took over, Shuriki caught him skimming from the money collected from taxes. Apparently he’d been at it for some time, so she threw him and the rest of his family out of the kingdom and told him that if he ever returned, she’d kill him herself. I haven’t seen him since that day.” You had been there for that moment too, unable to meet Victor’s eyes as he and his were escorted by stern-faced guards to Avalor’s borders, although you knew full-well that he was staring right at you the entire time, wholly expecting you to intervene on his behalf.

He should’ve known better that you wouldn’t have the courage to.

You felt extremely bad for Tomás and the rest of the Delgados, who, as far as you knew, had had nothing to do with the situation but were still being punished for Victor’s crimes. The fact that Victor had even been stealing in the first place had left you stunned. It looked like your family had been right the whole time and Victor really _was_ a crook. How could you have completely missed something like that? It made you feel so foolish and naive.

Grandfather’s addressing you brought you back to the present. “I know we had our misgivings about Victor and you didn’t feel the same, but I hope that wherever he is now he’s alive and doing well.”

“Thank you.” You were grateful that he wasn’t holding Victor’s being a thief over your head like it was some kind of victory for him. You knew that many people would have. “Um, _abuelo_?... I should apologize to you for acting the way I did when I was younger.” You never imagined that it would be so difficult to hold the man’s earnest gaze. “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone else in our family either. I was just really angry about a lot of things back then.”

The kindly smile Grandfather presented you with just then was practically beatific. “It’s alright, Esteban, really. I know I said some things to you back then that make me feel ashamed now when I think about them. For that I apologize.”

God, hearing that made you feel even worse about everything than you already did. Slumping forward, you wrapped your arms around yourself, keeping your legs close to your body.

“Esteban? Are you alright?” The bewilderment and concern in Grandfather’s voice was evident. No doubt he was wondering why on earth you’d seemingly started behaving so bizarrely out of nowhere.

“Sorry.” Displeased by the sudden hoarseness of your voice, you cleared your throat. You made like you were pinching the bridge of your nose, but in actuality you’d taken the opportunity to quickly dab at your eyes. _‘You are_ not _going to cry Esteban, not here. It wouldn’t be in keeping with your male dignity. it wouldn’t be in keeping with your male dignity. It wouldn’t…_ “The dust in here is bothering me.” You answered at length. “Shuriki should’ve paid more attention to keeping this room cleaner.”

“Don’t worry. Now we can give the palace the proper attention it deserves.” Grandfather patted you on the back. “You know that nothing we said or did was ever intended to hurt you, right?”

You tried quashing the negative thoughts before they could surface, but it was like trying to hold back a hailstorm with just a tattered scrap of rag. _‘But their actions and the things they said did hurt you.’_ And really, Grandfather could only speak for himself. Not Raul, not Grandmother, not... But you held your tongue as he went on. You had no clue how Grandfather might’ve reacted had you shared those sentiments with him, but you knew you certainly had no interest in igniting a potential spat.

“You made mistakes then, we made mistakes. Everybody makes them. What’s important is going forward and learning from those mistakes. Right?” He inclined his head inquiringly towards you, and received a nod of agreement. “Besides, I think you managed to do well for yourself. Look at everything you’ve accomplished in our absence.”

The sense of pride you felt from being praised by the man who’d practically become like another father to you was also tinged with guilt. Since you were responsible for the plight Avalor had found itself in, it was only fair that you try to fix what you could. You weren’t sure if it should be something to exult in. You settled for answering with a quiet “Thank you.”

“Now, I know you and your father were upset about the succession laws…”

For a moment you forget yourself. Your face fell. You quickly tried to catch yourself, but you knew he’d noticed the change. Inhaling deeply, you briefly shut your eyes, your expression switching to one of settled resignation. “I’ve accepted all that now.” You said evenly. “It was never my destiny to rule. Father Martínez told me before that my calling lies elsewhere. I pledge to support Elena in any possible.”

Hopefully that had mollified the old man. He gave a nod before moving onto a new subject. “How have you been holding up?”

You found yourself fiddling with the guitar strings. “Oh, well, it’s just… ” _‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’_ “… There’s been a great deal on my mind as of late, and it’s all just a bit difficult to deal with.”

“You’re not alone there. This is an uncomfortable situation for everybody. I can’t imagine having to try and live under that witch’s rule -- not having your grandmother by my side, being unable to see you or the girls. I wish I could’ve been there for you.” A sigh escaped him.

You glanced up at him, hoping that he wasn’t seriously blaming himself. “That was through no fault of your own, _abuelo_. Besides,” you went on to add in a flat tone, “more than likely she would’ve just killed you too.”

Grandfather could only nod. You both sat there, not just one but _two_ old men, gazing across the study at nothing. It took a bit before Grandfather found his voice again. “Things here in Avalor have changed so much that I feel... obsolete.”

This latest admission served to completely floor you, and you couldn’t help but stare. This was _The_ Captain, the man who’d always told you to keep your chin up and put your best foot forward, as you were a Castillo-Flores and needed to set an example for everyone else after all. “ _You_ , obsolete? When you returned it was like you just picked right up from where you left off!” And so had Grandmother, Elena, and Isabel. Honestly, you practically envied the four of them for how effortlessly they appeared to have just slipped back into their lives, as if things had never been disrupted in the first place. How did they do it?

Grandfather chuckled ruefully. “It may look that way from the outside, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way to me. My daughter and son-in-law are gone. Most of my friends are gone. I don’t know anyone here, even in my own home. I _should_ know who works here and comes and goes here. Why, I barely recognize Avalor herself!”

Listening as he vented, you found your surprise melting away. Instead, you were ashamed for having completely misread your Grandfather’s situation. He sounded about as isolated and melancholic as you felt. First Victor and now this. What else could have possibly slipped your notice because you were too shortsighted to look below the surface? Frowning inwardly, you decided to chastise yourself later and focus on helping your grandfather instead. “ _Abuelo_ , listen.” The look on your face as you addressed him was one of utmost seriousness. “I promise to try my best to help you become acclimated to everything. It’s the least I can do!”

“I think I would appreciate that...”

Encouraged by the fact that he had started to smile once more, you pressed on. “In fact, we can start tomorrow! I know the perfect place to begin too…”

You and he went onto stay up a little while longer, passing the time by chatting. You both probably could’ve gone on until daybreak. A glance in the direction of the grandfather clock that stood against the wall revealed it was 4:20 AM. You told Grandfather he needed to go get his rest. His response was that he could tell you the same thing. Standing, he began to leave, but not before coming in for a hug, successfully taking you off-guard for a third time that night. It was the first real embrace you’d shared with him since his return. You had barely hugged or kissed another human being in over _forty-one years_. After all, Shuriki hadn’t hesitated a second to take out the people you loved. You didn’t hold any illusions about whether or not she’d do it again if it suited her needs or if she just felt like killing either. You weren’t exaggerating earlier when you’d told Elena and your grandparents that you would’ve feared for any woman who wanted to marry you. You hadn’t wished to endanger anymore people.

Afterwards, you departed for your bedchamber, guitar in hand. Something Grandfather had said weighed heavily on your mind as you put the instrument away.

Those damn laws. The root of all your problems. It was an ugly scar which had finally healed over but which was now being scraped at and pricked with pins. Avalor’s succession laws had formerly been agnatic for generations, but King Raul had had them altered so that they were cognatic instead. That effectively cut you out of a fair shot at inheriting the throne even though you too were of the royal line (you, Elena, and, Isabel all sharing a common ancestor in King Felipe I, Avalor’s first ruler), and instead made Elena and Isabel Raul’s direct successors. Now you were third in line. Father had not been pleased and had made his feelings on the matter well-known – at home or other private places, anyways. After all, who was going to challenge a king to his face?

But Raúl had not completely forgotten you. When he, your aunt, your grandparents, and the rest of your older family members had called you before them, they’d gone on to lay out their expectations for your path to adulthood: get serious. Apply yourself and learn. Make your mother and father proud by becoming a worthy scion to the duchy of Villa Rica. Find a wife.

Becoming king might’ve been well out of your reach, but this could be your chance to rise to the occasion in another way! You were just a slip of a lad at only twelve as you stood straight and tall there in the Great Chamber, surrounded by your relations and important figures among the royal court as you tried to appear as that serious young man you wanted everyone else to see. You’d approved of their obligations, and worked hard to fulfill them in order to make everybody proud.

Well, all except the marriage thing. That was okay though; back then you felt sure you still had lots of time left to find a wife. After all, there were plenty of eligible young noble ladies across the kingdoms of EverRealm, and a number of them did seem drawn to you even though you lacked those same kinds of feelings for them. You had compartmentalized that side of yourself though. No one else needed to know about it. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine what your grandparents might say if they ever learned the truth.

You also hadn’t exactly distanced yourself from Victor like Raúl had requested you do. In hindsight, you wondered if perhaps you should’ve listened to him and strengthened your friendships with your other friends, like Ignacio and Yesenia, instead. You didn’t know if that would’ve solved _all_ of your problems, but you doubted that they would’ve ever been interested in overthrowing your aunt and uncle.

Unlike them however, Victor actually lived on the palace grounds. He also knew that the rest of your family could be quite different behind closed doors as opposed to the public faces they put on. Your other friends had their own homes, even spoke of desiring your life. So it wasn’t exactly as if you could tell your peers things you felt more comfortable sharing with Victor.

But hey, you’d been more than willing to make sacrifices in other areas along the way, and prided yourself on being able to set aside your own secret desires and dreams – how mature you were!

But… a tiny part of you wasn’t entirely satisfied with where your life was headed. At first, you had tried tuning this feeling out, had shoved it deep into some recess in the corner of your mind, but it persisted. It started feeling less like your life and more like you were just a puppet for your family. The feeling had festered like a malignant tumor, growing worse and worse. At a certain point you were just going through the motions of living. Go to morning Mass with your family because all of you _always_ attended Mass together, even though you’d been up most of the night before reading a long treatise about Avalor and its origins and felt ready to drop from exhaustion at any second? Alright then, why not? Of course you wound up getting scolded for not being able to stay awake.

Noticing how Elena was treated versus your own treatment just twisted the knife. Why was she constantly getting special treatment and gifts, like the amulet Grandmother had given her for her fifteenth birthday? You’d tried to swallow down the resentment that had surfaced within you later at having witnessed this. It wasn’t enough that she was going to be queen -- she needed magical trinkets too? You had never gotten anything like that on any of your birthdays before. No, you had to work your ass off just to receive any sort of acknowledgment from anybody instead. Was it because she was now Raul’s successor and you were just some orphan who could barely open his mouth to speak in public? Was that to be your fate then, always coming in second place to everybody else?

And then there was the day you discovered a diary which belonged to your father. You had been staying at your parents’ palatial estate in Vila Rica for a few months. While in the library you’d dropped an apple you were eating, and it had rolled underneath an armchair. While trying to recover it, you happened to chance across two floorboards which appeared to be slightly off compared to the others. It turned out that they were loose, and when you pried them up, there was a small wooden box stashed there, and inside it, the diary. Once you realized what you had just discovered, you had wavered between peeking at it and putting it back where you had found it and going about your business. It was his personal diary, after all.

You should’ve put it back, you stupid boy. But no – finally giving into your childish curiosity, you skimmed through the pages, only to be arrested by one particular passage:

_‘Today is Esteban’s seventh birthday. It’s truly amazing to see how far he’s come since he was small enough for me to hold in my arms. I have long dreamt of the day when my son will be named next in line to the throne. Even though the children are still small, already I can recognize in Esteban the intelligence, ambition, and drive necessary to lead the kingdom, qualities that I just don’t see in Elena right now…’_

Your father had recorded all of his hopes and aspirations for you right here in this little book. You could remember him telling you before about you becoming the future ruler of Avalor someday, but seeing his thoughts there on paper, the clear passion with which he wrote about it…

You went to Grandmother first.

_Wide-eyed, Luisa gazed at Esteban before her eyes traveled down to the diary clutched in his hands. “Where did you find that?” She stared at the inconspicuous little book like it was a deadly serpent._

_“It was hidden under the floorboards in mother and father’s library. So it’s true then?” He peered at her, hope and inquisitiveness reflected in his bright hazelnut eyes. “That the throne should’ve gone to me, not Elena? I read all about it – the succession laws were agnatic before!”_

_His grandmother’s mouth opened, then closed. Esteban couldn’t help but be remembered of a stranded fish gasping for air._

_“That was… a long time ago.” She said at length. Her eyes were all over the place -- everywhere but him. “Things are different now, mijo. It’s best to let things lie in the past and just focus on what is in front of us now.”_

_It was Esteban’s turn to stare in stupefied disbelief at what he was hearing, even if her tone had been a gentle one. “But… abuela…”_

_“No more, Esteban.” That was her “shut up, I’m not discussing this any further” voice. As she resumed her needlework, Esteban, stinging with hurt and betrayal, turned and trudged away. That was the kind of response you gave to a child who was pestering you. Why_ shouldn’t _the matter be discussed any further? Did she actually believe that Elena deserved the crown over him then? Did she really prefer her over him?_

After that, who else could you turn to?

_“He took it from you.” The-friend-that-Esteban-told-his-family-he-wouldn’t-be-spending-anymore-time-with said. Esteban and Victor were aimlessly wandering the estate grounds, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth as Esteban shared his tale of woe with him. Bitterly Esteban had figured that his family members were probably flocking around Elena back at the palace, as was the norm by then, playing guitar and singing insipid songs, but still figured it’d be best for him and Victor to talk someplace where prying eyes were few and far between. A groundskeeper was preoccupied tending to the shrubbery that grew around the back of the estate, but he was so far away from the teens that neither were especially concerned about him overhearing their discussion._

_Victor, who seemed to be on the verge of intoxication if the way he slurred his words and the glassy look his eyes had taken on was anything to go by, continued to belligerently rail. “They call me a thief, but you know who the_ real _thief here is, don’t you?”_

Those words stayed with you. It was the final element needed to create that perfect storm of anger inside you. No longer were you the dutiful, polite young duke of Vila Rica. To hell with all that. If your family only seemed to like you when you kept quiet and did as you were told, while you’d given up just about _everything_ to please them, then you weren’t going to play that game any longer. You hadn’t known how to respond to your situation other than lashing out and doing anything you could think of to make things hard for the House of Castillo-Flores. Doing such had not put you in anybody’s good graces, to mildly put it. Not even Father Martinez could get you to see reason. At one point, Grandfather threatened to have you shipped off to a military academy just so he and everybody else would be “free of your burden.”

As an adult thinking back, you were _not_ proud of your behavior then. If you had somehow been granted the opportunity to do it all over again, you wondered how you could have better handled everything.

Questions you kept asking yourself that would never have answers.

****

Your stride was brisk as you walked across the courtyard, dressed (smartly, like always) for the day, the staccato sound of your well-polished boots on cream tile accompanying you. Nearing the spot Shuriki had fallen from, on a whim you altered course and made your way over before stopping a few feet from the edge of the parapet. Heights didn’t particularly bother you, but you had had… certain unpleasant, yet not entirely unwelcome thoughts before concerning the balcony, ones which even now still made you uncomfortable.

You peered down, then straight ahead to take in the rest of the kingdom from your high vantage point, serene and golden in the twilight. You didn’t really know why you choose to stand in _this_ particular place, all things considered. Possibly out of some sort of perverse curiosity perhaps, or a sense of triumph, knowing that this was where you and your family’s tormentor, finally stripped of her terrible power, met her fate, and you could now look down at the place where her body had disappeared beneath the rushing currents.

When you cast your eyes down at the Mitotiqui again, your blood turned as cold as the water coursing below your feet and you couldn’t move, so shocked by what you were seeing.

Shuriki was clinging to the ledge, emerald eyes burning with hatred as she stared back up at you. Her scraggly gray tresses streamed around her shoulders and waved in the breeze. Dry, cracked lips were pulled back over yellowed teeth in an animalistic snarl.

Terrible claw-like bony fingers suddenly clamped down tightly on your right wrist. That finally galvanized you into action. Horrified, you struggled to pull away, but her grip was like a bird of prey’s. Her other hand shot up to grab your cravat, pulling you in closer to her even as you desperately fought to escape. You wanted to cry out for help, but no sound left your mouth. What happened? Had she used maleficium to rob you of your voice? Was there anyone around to witness what was going on?

 _“It’s only fair that you join me, traitor.”_ The crone croaked in a ghastly, scratchy voice.

Mercifully, everything seemed to just crash to an abrupt stop as you jerked into wakefulness. Wild-eyed, you sat up and looked around, but there was no sign of Shuriki anywhere. You weren’t outside. You were in your nightclothes and in bed, safe and unharmed. But you would’ve _sworn_ that you had felt her hand around your wrist.

Lying back down, you let out a peal of laughter borne from relief, but which sounded uncomfortably overwrought to your ears. When was this torment going to end?

Even as you asked yourself that though, you knew what the answer was. _‘It never will. You brought all of this onto yourself. You must answer for your crimes against the crown.’_

What were you going to do? The nightmares and unwanted echoes of the past were not about to simply go away. You felt somewhat bad for not having opened up to Grandfather earlier, while he had been willing to lower his guard and reveal a vulnerable side. You knew how much he valued tradition and strength, so doing that couldn’t have been easy for him. What would his reaction to learning that his own grandson was responsible for inviting the wolf into his home have been?

You weren’t a man like him. You couldn’t summon the nerve to find out.

Perhaps you needed to finally go to confession. You could talk about what happened without directly implicating yourself or lying to the priest. But even then you knew you wouldn’t be able to talk about _everything_ that had happened to you. You just couldn’t.

You wiped the back of a hand across your damp forehead before just lying there and staring up at the ceiling. Then, you slipped a hand under your mattress. Running into something hard, you closed your fingers around the item and pulled it out – a small, aged brown leather-bound book. You gazed at the cover before clutching it to your chest.

Papa’s diary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s notes:** Many thanks to my friend Fox the Writer (Summerspeck on this site) for devising that guitar-playing scene for me! No one can convince me that Esteban wasn’t trolling Shuriki when he suddenly busted out his guitar for Sofia and co in “The Secret Of Avalor.”
> 
> I chose to do my own thing with Victor’s being exiled from Avalor here. I feel like he and Shuriki are both smart enough (or should be smart enough) to keep people around for as long as they can see a use for them, rather than pointlessly severing any alliances they have for no apparent reason other than “I’m a big meanie-pants.” And really, what would a powerful (and arrogant) sorceress have to fear from a thief, to the extent where she feels the need to exile him?
> 
> Now, before fans begin sending me hatemail because I made Elena’s daddy a “bad guy”, hear me out. I want to make the reasoning behind Esteban’s desire for the throne a little more complex than the series’ “He was selfish and greedy” (and I don’t think that particular subplot was even handled all that well there). I find it vastly more interesting to write characters as being more like real people, with warts and all, rather then flawless paragons of virtue (or making characters the series wants us to root for as pure as the driven snow). I mean yeah, Elena speaks fondly of her parents, but she ain’t exactly an unbiased source here. You can be a great father and a nice person while still being paranoid about your extended family members and their possibly taking power.


	3. Thought I’d Something More To Say

Day ten since your family’s return to the real world.

In addition to Lord Chancellor and Duke of Villa Rica, you could now add “Regent to the Crown Princess” to your list of titles. You’d been tasked with not only assisting Elena with matters of the crown, but also introducing her to what had been termed the Grand Council soon, which would consist of a select few members of the Avaloran aristocracy as well as individuals who were otherwise important voices in the kingdom, and even a new chaplain coming in from Nueva Vista, a fellow named Revello. 

Now _that_ was going to be one very interesting first meeting indeed. All of them were learned people, well-versed in politics, and known to be clever (you would know, as you’d vouched for most of them). As you were now Elena’s regent, you were to be attending Council meetings as well, along with Rudolph. Speaking of Rudolph, several days ago, he had stopped by the palace along with his wife Inez to officially welcome your family back. The reunion had been a rather awkward one, more so for him, Elena, and Isabel. You could sympathize.

At any rate, the Grand Council was supposed to rule alongside Elena until she was finally of age to assume the throne. In a move designed to be both a formal celebration and a way to show the rest of the Eight Kingdoms (and hopefully EverRealm too, but given that it had taken forty-one years for just one kingdom to discover Shuriki was a pretender to the throne, you’d be surprised – but glad -- if the rest of the world even took notice of the change in leaders) that tranquility and peace had been restored to Avalor and Shuriki vanquished, Elena was to have a public presentation. 

You had promised Grandfather that you’d be there to aid Elena with anything she needed. Still, as the day of the presentation drew nearer and nearer, you were unable to put your heart into the event. Not fully. Effectively, your new role was really just going to be babysitting a princess who you doubted even fully trusted you, and standing around looking pretty. 

Hooray. 

Yes, you’d seen this sort of thing before when you had visited Satu and other kingdoms, and sometimes when, in the past, other rulers had visited Avalor. The king, queen, or whoever’s relatives being forced to take on some boring or meaningless government post. Some of them had joined the military. Neither of those things were what you had aspired to do as a boy though. _You_ wanted to be the one in charge so that you could guide Avalor to prosperity and renown! It seemed like your lengthy education and experience were going to go to pot now that you were essentially a glorified babysitter. You’d been under one ruler’s heel before, and you were _still_ under someone’s heel even now (granted, Elena was vastly more preferable to a rapist and homicidal maniac). 

And what would happen to all of the hard work you’d put into keeping Avalor afloat all these years? The port, the new roads, Avalor’s trade deals with the other Eight Kingdoms, all of it? Was it all going to go to waste now with a frivolous teenager running the show?

You didn’t want to think that way. You knew how bad it all sounded and the dark path it had led you down before. You loved Elena, and it wasn’t as if your cousins had demanded their father alter the laws for their own benefit. 

Laws were laws, and you certainly didn’t have the power to change anything. Still, a part of you couldn’t help but bristle at the injustice. 

_’Just smile. Keep smiling and reassure everybody that everything is fine.’_

“Esteban, did you hear me?”

Coolly you turned to regard the girl standing close by you. “I’m sorry, what was that Elena?”

“I said ‘all this court etiquette stuff is just as dull as I remember it being.’ It’s nice to just get out and take a break from it all, you know?’”

Ah, it was sentiments like that from her that just _really_ filled one with hope for Avalor’s future. 

The two of you were waiting outside the palace stables. Unwilling to stand out in the midday heat in your formal wear, you instead just wore a simple white tunic, tan trousers, and black riding boots. Elena was clad in a canary-yellow dress embroidered with small pink flowers. The night before, you’d instructed her to meet you here, only telling her that you had a surprise in store for her. Not wanting Isabel to feel snubbed, but knowing that equestrianism had really never been an area of interest for her the way it was yours and Elena’s, you’d gotten her some new drawing supplies instead.

“Please _do_ try to keep in mind that you don’t just have a lot of refreshing your mind to do, but catching up with the times as well.” You explained to Elena as patiently as possible. You had to restrain yourself from telling her that at least she was getting help in her journey to occupying the throne someday. She’d always had somebody in her comer, whereas you didn’t always have that luxury when you had been struggling to keep Avalor from fraying at the seams earlier. 

Catching sight of the aforementioned surprise, you gestured ahead, drawing Elena’s attention to one of the stable hands, a tall, fit-looking teen. He was leading a Lusitano horse towards you both. “There she is.”

As boy and horse both drew closer, Elena’s face broke out into a broad smile, and she looked to you. “Is she for me?” 

There was no denying it -- her joy was contagious. Now smiling yourself, you nodded.

Even though you’d made certain yourself that this horse was an even-tempered specimen, Elena still had the presence of mind even after all this time to walk deliberately but slowly forward, making sure the horse was able to see her the entire time. When she was in range, she offered a closed fist for the mare to sniff. Seeing that the animal’s body language remained receptive and calm, Elena then ran her hands over the strong neck before finally wrapping her arms around the mare’s golden neck and hugging her. “Thank you, Esteban, I love her!”

You figured she would be happy, but you hadn’t really been expecting her to leave the horse and throw her arms around you next. You’d forgotten how expressive Elena could be. Blinking, you could only stare at her before managing to work an arm free and return a one-handed hug. You felt as incredibly awkward as you were sure you probably appeared just then. 

Swallowing the lump that had developed in your throat, you waited a few seconds before telling her, “It is the least I can do.” And really, it was. New pets and charcoal pencils wouldn’t make up for what you’d done to her and Isabel’s parents of course, but you hoped the presents would at least make them both happy. 

Breaking off the hug, Elena went back to showering the mare with more attention. “Still know how to ride?” She asked over her shoulder.

“Of course.” Came your prompt answer. Was that some sort of crack about your age? You and her had been taught horsemanship around the same time as children. It wasn’t as though… Wait – “Go riding? Right _now_?” You scoped out a sundial nearby before turning back to regard Elena, arching an eyebrow. “What about Shuriki?” Still nothing from the soldiers or anybody else about finding any sign of her. Something about that just struck you as ominous.

“What about her? She’s dead! How could anybody have survived that fall?” 

“Even if that is the case – and I don’t think it wise to just automatically conclude that she actually _is_ dead if there’s no body to show for it -- don’t you have an important meeting tomorrow that you still need prepping for?”

Well. Elena’s reply to that was to put on quite the juvenile display of griping, rolling her eyes and groaning loudly. “ _C’mon_ , Esteban, we’ve been going over social etiquette and protocol and titles and what color socks Doña de Jesús wears for the better part of the week! I _think_ I can handle tomorrow just fine.”

Certain you’d caught the sound of poorly suppressed laughter off to your left, you surveyed the culprit with a flinty stare. For his part Antonio stood there ramrod straight, gaze fixed straight ahead and mouth set in a hard line.

With Antonio chastened you returned your attention to Elena, regarding her with disapproval. Admittedly she was doing a good job of trying to win you over -- leaning forward slightly, hands clasped behind her back as she gazed up at you with pleading brown eyes and a winsome smile. “Please? Look, if it makes you feel any better, you can drill me some more while we’re out riding.”

But not a good enough job. You simply crossed your arms and turned away from her. “I am not about to give in, Elena! This isn’t something you can just… just… put off!” It was childhood all over again -- Elena trying to talk you into doing something you didn’t want to do. Well, you were an adult now, and things had changed!

“Please?”

“No.”

_“Pleeease?”_

“No!”

Suddenly she was at your side, trying to catch your eye, but you just turned your head. 

“Come on! Don’t you remember how we used to race our horses up and down the beach, and how I’d always beat you?” 

“What?” Slowly you turned around to face her. “I do believe you’re mistaken, _dear cousin_ , because I’m quite certain it was the other way around.” 

Humming in a thoughtful fashion, she shook her head, long black ponytail moving to and fro with the gesture. “No, no, I don’t think so. I seem to remember _someone_ coming in second place a lot.”

“Get ready.” You all but growled at Elena, whose expression right about then could be described as angelic. You weren’t mad. You just needed to prove to her how wrong she was. “Antonio!” The stable boy jumped in surprise as you addressed him. “Find some other stable hands to assist you. The two of you get that horse saddled for the princess,” You pointed at the palomino mare, “fetch my riding gear and Arpegiar, and go tell at least four guardsmen to wait for us by the gates!”

“Yes, Don Esteban.” Antonio took off for the stables once more. After several minutes had passed he returned with a saddled Arpegiar, leading the buckskin gelding to you. Another stable hand had Elena’s horse, now also ready to be ridden. A third had your riding gloves, which he handed off to you. While Antonio held Arpegiar’s reins, you slid your fingers into the fine black leather and pulled them onto your hands, one at a time. You were going to really savor your inevitable victory.

Upon spying Arpegiar, Elena had perked up yet again. “Hey, you got a new horse! What happened to Atr --” Her eyes grew large before a nervous smile overtook her face. “Uh… never mind.”

By that time you had grown more used to these kinds of instances. Although you still could remember when Atrevido died, it had been over ten years ago, so the pain of the memory wasn’t nearly as vivid as it was then. Atrevido was a good horse and an important source of comfort for you since you had been a seventeen-year-old, especially during your family’s imprisonment. Still, there was a self-conscious pause left in the wake of her words. Hoping to bypass the discomfort that was the topic of dead pets, you strolled over to the buckskin and patted his side while he waited there, calmly taking in everything around him. “Arpegiar is an Andalusian, the horse of choice for kings and warriors.” You explained to Elena. “He was imported here all the way from Cariza.” 

“Hey there, fella.” Reaching a hand out, she stroked Arpegiar’s velvety nose and received an appreciative nicker in return. “So, this your ‘mighty stallion’?” 

“Me, ride a stallion?” You scoffed. “Why don’t I just start juggling swords blindfolded while I’m at it?”

That remark received an amused grin from Elena, but then she regarded you inquisitively. “Uh, I’m pretty sure that was _you_ talking about getting a black stallion before.”

You plucked a stray bit of straw out of Arpegiar’s glossy sable mane that you’d just noticed and flicked it to the side. “Not anymore. They may look majestic, but this one Arabian nearly kicked me clear across the stables when I tried to mount him. After that, I said I was never getting near another stallion ever again.” 

Elena furrowed her brow. “Where was I when that happened?”

“Somewhere with your friends or _abuelo_ and _abuela_ , I’m sure.” You sniffed. “I was sixteen.” 

Just as Elena prepared to mount her horse, Antonio cleared his throat and adopted this crooked grin that he was probably under the delusion of thinking it made him a hit with all the girls. “I’d be happy to help you up there, Pri – er, Elena. I’m quite the rider, you know. If you like, I could show you some of my riding tricks too.”

In short order, a red-hot wave of anger rushed over you. This impudent little bastard! You were ready to sharply reprimand him when Elena replied instead, smiling pleasantly if not a little self-consciously back at Antonio. “Uh, you know what? I can get up myself, but if I need anything, I’ll be sure to let you know. Thank you though.” Putting her left foot into the stirrup, she effortlessly hoisted herself up onto the animal’s back and seated herself in the saddle.

You closely watched through narrowed eyes as Antonio bowed quickly before beating a hasty retreat, no doubt sensing that he was on thin ice with you. Once he had gone, you directed your attention to Elena. “Any particular reason why you give the servants leave to address you so familiarly?” Yes, apparently she didn’t want anyone referring to her by her royal title. Why, you failed to understand. She was still going to be a princess irregardless of what people called her. At any rate, this wasn’t the first instance you’d noticed palace staff being overly casual with her or vice-verse. It certainly wasn’t a good idea to do that with somebody like Antonio.

“What does hurt if I do?” 

You made a sound of disapproval in your throat. “That kind of informality leads to a breakdown in discipline.”

“Oh come on Esteban, do you seriously think Antonio and the other servants are going to launch an uprising or something?” She laughed.

You failed to share in her amusement. “It just isn’t proper, that’s all. Servants have a duty to perform, just as we as royalty have our own tasks to attend to. If you start blurring those lines, the next thing you know you have servants who aren’t taking their jobs as seriously as they should, and that in turn can affect _our_ efficiency.” Climbing up onto Arpegiar with practiced ease, you settled onto the saddle before regarding Elena’s with a smirk. “If Antonio hadn’t saddled Arpegiar for me just now, imagine how much time would’ve been wasted if I’d stood here trying to do it myself?”

“Yeah, because saddling a horse is _sooo_ hard, and it isn’t like you’ve ever done it yourself before.”

“The point is that that’s his _job_ , Elena.”

Urging her horse forward with a flick of the reins, Elena started to ride past you. “I think you’re just paranoid. If we treat them like peers, then they’ll want to work for us!”

It took every ounce of your willpower to keep from rolling your eyes at her childlike naivete. “Yes, well, as lovely as that would be, in reality things don’t quite work like that.” You encouraged Arpegiar into a quick trot, and, catching up with Elena, slowed him down.

“Well, we’ll just see about that!”

“No, I think _you’re_ going to see about that.”

****

Guided respectively by Elena and yourself down a riding trail located near the palace, Arpegiar and Elena’s horse (who had yet to receive a name – Elena had said that she still wasn’t sure what she wanted to call her) walked easily alongside one another. Astride their own steeds your guards brought up the rear, making sure to scan the surroundings for any potential threats.

Well, wherever danger was lurking, it was doing a remarkable job of concealing itself. The sapphire sky seemed to stretch on forever, interrupted only by thick white clouds which congregated on the distant horizon. The horses appeared to be enjoying the day. Irregardless of how tranquil and beautiful everything appeared however, you and the guardsmen both knew better then to let your guards down. That was how people often found themselves in perilous situations in the first place, after all. 

Things had settled down between you and Elena after your impromptu debate on how to appropriately engage palace staff, and now you both were discussing all of the important events that were just around the corner. Well, you _were_ talking about them, anyways. How much of what you were saying was actually penetrating that hard head of hers’ you couldn’t say though, as at present she seemed more interested in everything _but_ her meeting with the Grand Council and presentation. In spite of that, this little jaunt was actually a rather nice experience -- not that you would ever admit it aloud. Things felt normal. 

Almost.

“Oh, look Esteban!” Elena was pointing up into a tree. Sighing, you followed her line of sight. Up in the branches was a bird’s nest, where a small vivid blue and black bird could be seen feeding her nestlings. 

Elena was still yammering away. “You know what I missed the most while I was in the amulet? I mean, aside from other people? The birds and the flowers and everything else. Colors."

That gave you pause as you remembered pondering what your relatives had experienced while imprisoned. This was the first time you’d heard any of them actually bring it up. “So… you weren’t able to see anything in there?” 

“Well, in a way. And I could sense certain things too.” She casually explained before letting out a gasp, causing you to start. Was everything alright? 

Elena, who seemed to be staring at something overhead, raised her arms into the air and spread them wide. “Is this sky gorgeous or what?” She was beaming broadly.

Your look of panic quickly turned to one of bemusement. Glancing over at your guards, you noticed them in the act of sheathing their blades. Apparently, you weren’t the only one there who Elena had unintentionally startled. Recalling what you were discussing previously, you tried to get the conversation back on its proper track. The amulet business could wait. “Er, I believe we were discussing your presentation. Now, I would highly recommend inviting the Enchancian royals --” 

Glancing over at you, Elena’s face somehow brightened even more. “Sofia and her family? Of course! She’s done so much for us.” 

More than she could possibly have ever known. That little girl had your undying gratitude for saving the kingdom, your loved ones, and yourself.

The repetitive clop-clop of steady hoofbeats and gravel being crushed underneath wheels suddenly reached your ears. A few people were coming up on the trail from the opposite direction. It was a man and an older woman sitting side by side in the front of a donkey-drawn cart that appeared to be filled with crops of some sort. A second man who was carrying a walking stick kept pace alongside them. All three looked to be commoners, farmers more than likely. 

You were closest to them; Elena was on your other side. Ever so slightly, you stiffened in the saddle. Better to just remain quiet and allow either Elena or the farmers to speak first, lest you opened your mouth and said something either stupid or offensive.

They’d probably noticed you and your little party at the same time you had them. As the trio drew nearer, the driver brought his donkey to a halt, watching you. The second man also stopped, eyes moving between his friend and your group with uncertainty. 

The driver then loudly proclaimed: “Well, look at this -- Shuriki’s number one lackey decides to come down and grace us common folk with his presence!”

You blenched like you’d been physically struck. Arpegiar’s pace had started slowing as your grip on his reins slackened. That barely registered in your brain though, as the driver’s accusation left you reeling. You really had tried your best to protect them, but there was only so much you could really do. Did people seriously think that you _enjoyed_ serving Shuriki? You certainly hadn’t been any sort of a confidant or aid to her.

You attempted to spit out a defense. “W-wait, you don’t un --”

“What were _you_ doing when Shuriki evicted my family from our home so she could build her mines?” That was the elderly woman, who had actually stood so that she could rebuke you.

“Hey!” Even before the guardsmen arrived Elena was already maneuvering her horse in between you and the farmers. “Leave my cousin alone!”

The three of them recoiled, appearing genuinely taken aback by her interference. “Your highness!” The first man exclaimed. “I – we’re sorry. Forgive us.”

By then the woman had apparently overcome her initial surprise. She said nothing, her dark scornful eyes continuing to sear you before the man with the walking stick made her sit back down again. Under the watchful gaze of the guardsman, who by then had come to stand protectively in front of you and Elena, hands on their sword hilts, the driver snapped the donkey’s reins. Galvanized into action, the animal trotted on past and down the trail.

When you felt certain they had no intention of coming back, the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you stop them. “Elena, you should be more careful! We don’t know who those people were!” You weren’t really intending to scold her, but the realization that her daring could’ve gotten her hurt had just struck you. It seemed like those three were just disgruntled citizens -- clearly not Shuriki sympathizers, but what if they hadn’t been so deferential towards Elena? 

Elena, who’d also been watching them as they departed, turned to you, still frowning. “The nerve of some people! Are you okay?”

You couldn’t meet her gaze. Your riding gloves were suddenly looking terribly interesting. “I’m fine, thank you.” With the farmers gone you were feeling a little better, but not by much. You didn’t really feel much like riding anymore. A part of you wished that you could’ve told the farmers as well as anyone else who would listen what had _really_ gone on during Shuriki’s coup, but the feelings of embarrassment and shame were just too great. 

The shame of having been deceived and being too blinded by your own arrogance and selfishness to realize it, the shame of allowing yourself to be taken advantage of by her, both physically and otherwise. 

The shame of having to wait hand and foot on the harpy who’d destroyed your family. And once everyone learned the truth, they would see you differently. Treat you differently.

“Apologies Your Highness, Don Esteban.” That was one of the shamefaced guards, breaking you out of your brooding. “We should’ve been more alert.”

The fire in Elena’s eyes dimmed. “It’s alright.” She reassured them before turning concerned eyes back to you. “Do you want to go back?” 

“Really, it’s fine.” You replied, having switched to an airier tone of voice. “Let’s just move on.” And before she could get another word out, you clicked your tongue and applied some pressure to Arpegiar’s withers with your legs. He cantered off further down the trail, leaving Elena there. You wouldn’t have been surprised if everybody was staring at you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted out of there. 

After a few minutes or so you slowed Arpegiar down to a regular walk. He’d taken off a little faster back there than what you intended. Behind you, you could hear the rest of the horses as they walked along, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you tried to concentrate on your riding and Arpegiar in an effort to block out the encounter with the farmers. 

Before you knew it, Elena was riding beside you again. That time, you didn’t try moving away, although you didn’t acknowledge her presence either. Thankfully, she didn’t try pestering you with questions about you and how you felt or what have you like you thought she would. A part of you acknowledged that you were more than likely going to have to open up at some point to _somebody_ , but… not now, and not Elena. At least not so soon. Right now, all you wanted to do was simply relax and bask in the comfort of the familiar and the warmth of your loved ones.

Elena _did_ ask a question, but not one about you. “Hey, so what do you think about the name Canela?”

“For?...” 

“For my horse!” 

“Well…” You peered over at the mare. Nothing about her struck you as being akin to or like cinnamon. But whatever, it was Elena’s horse. “I suppose she looks like a Canela?...“ 

Elena smiled satisfactorily. “Good! Then it’s settled.” 

Afterwards, nothing else was said, but that quirky little exchange had the extraordinary effect of actually alleviating some of the tension in you. Had that been intentional on her part, you wondered? Thoughtfully, you considered the girl through hooded eyes. That was when you noticed that for once she wasn’t smiling. Instead, her expression was one of pensiveness.

“Something on your mind?” You asked gently.

“Um… actually there is. Do you think I’ll do a good job as queen?”

Your eyebrows rose ever so slightly, but otherwise your face betrayed nothing. “Why do you ask? Did someone say something?”

“If they have, then never to my face. It’s just… well, Avalor’s a big place. Plus there’s a ton of stuff to do and memorize – I’m not even talking about this Council business – but having to actually run all this.” She made a sweeping gesture which took in the land around both of you. The confident, breezy quality typically present in her voice wasn’t there. “It isn’t exactly like they hand out ‘How To Be A Good Ruler’ guides.” 

Initially, you couldn’t do anything but stare. On one hand, you found yourself pleasantly surprised that she had enough awareness to realize this was no easy task that lay ahead of her. That meant she was taking it seriously.

And yet… You came to the realization that you really didn’t like seeing her this way either. She needed to treat becoming queen with the appropriate amount of gravitas, yes, but not outright doubting herself. That sort of attitude could end up hindering her more than anything. 

Drawing an imperceptible intake of breath, you reached a hand out and touched her forearm. “Elena, listen. You’ll do fine.” You presented her with your best reassuring smile. “Especially with me in your corner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s notes:** So obviously my Grand Council will have a somewhat revamped lineup.
> 
> Esteban’s opinions on stallions do not necessarily represent those of the author. I’ve never actually ridden a horse before (would love to try though!). I did research the equestrianism elements within the story to the best of my ability, but if I’ve gotten them or anything else wrong then I will bow to someone else’s knowledge. 
> 
> Speaking of which, I’d also like to credit Flammifleure for giving me a helping hand with the story’s religious and political aspects, and even how to better approach Esteban from a more realistic and layered perspective.
> 
> It started to feel really weird writing this, considering the course the show’s third season ran and my feelings towards it. I know I didn’t really touch on Isabel or Luisa, but I was worried about things becoming repetitive. I may return in the near-future and include an extra chapter that focuses on one of them interacting with Esteban (honestly, I prefer Isabel) if I ever get any good ideas, but as of now, consider this baby done.

**Author's Note:**

> A translation of Father Martinez’s Confiteor: 
> 
> “I confess to almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the saints that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore, I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy apostles Peter and Paul, and all the saints, to pray for me to the Lord our God. Amen.”
> 
> Maleficium is a term I use here to refer to the evil magic used by Shuriki and other not-so-nice magic-users.¬
> 
> Don Rudolph Benevente-Ruiz is one of the more important original fan characters I made for my reboot here. We’ll be meeting him in the flesh in future installments (and if you’re curious, yes, there is an actual reason for his not having a Spanish first name).


End file.
